Measurement of a Man: Motors, Horse Power, Mufflers and More
The men in my life are disparate, so when attempting to size them up I use their relationships with automobiles as a means to help me understand them fuller.
My father is outdoorsy – a geologist by profession, although now retired. Chip a rock here. Collect a fossil there. He is a man’s man, but has never shown any fondness for machinery. Although raised to be a gentleman, engines and gears had a way of bringing out the inner savage. Some of my oldest memories involve my dad bent over some motor, cursing out the Industrial Age.
Dad would change tires on our VW camper vans when required, but would never have been one to fawn over chrome grill work or aftermarket center caps. He might pour some water in the radiator or dab Rust-oleum on rusted patches on our van, but scrubbing up headlamps with toothbrushes or running Q-Tips around dashboard knobs were not matters that occurred in our garage.
Then Again, my father-in-law is a car man through and through. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew every make, model, and year of every automobile that ever travelled the Pennsylvania turnpike. He is happy to spend a Weekend afternoon checking out cars at an Antique Car Club Rally or scrubbing the whitewalls on his car.
Growing up in rural northern Pennsylvania, he quickly graduated from teething ring to pliers and pitchfork. Farm boys acquired the ABCs of mechanics along with animal husbandry at an early age. The affinity with motors and wheels and all the associated gadgets stuck, although fondness for animals did not. He left the farm to go to college and never looked back.
My hubby is a teacher, just like his father and my father, but that is where their similarities finish. He doesn’t meticulously clean his cars, collect rocks, or go camping. He likes to spend Saturdays enjoy coffee at a local Starbuck, grading papers, and catching up with friends on Facebook.
He keeps his car full of gas, but would in all likelihood use his Ford center caps as door stops in his office rather than pimp his ride with them. No disrespect if you’re a center cap mind you. He takes the time to vacuum-clean his car just twice a year and doesn’t mind driving around with the words “wash me” scribbled someplace in the dirt on his car.
The young man that my daughter dates is a pepped up version of my father-in-law. When I have the opportunity, I am going to send them to an car parts store together so they can rapidly bond. My daughter gave her boyfriend a performance exhaust kit for his birthday and he is excited that the tailpipe rumbles deeply. He says it lets everyone know he’s arrived. My daughter grins saying, “I can hear him coming from more than a mile away.” It’s obvious that she’s in the throes of young love!
There’s not question that the relationships that men have with their cars can be complicated. On occasion, the car can be a expression of a man’s masculinity, while other men act as if their vehicles were a foe that are a nuisance to be conquered or at the very least, endured.
Many name their automobiles, and others blaspheme them. Some handle their vehicles with TLC, while others cop bragging rights because their car or truck is beat up or has the most mileage. Car tales are exchanged over beers, like war accounts used to be told around a campfire.
Why else is the auto industry capable of selling billions of dollars of chrome, rims, seat covers, backup detectors, window tinting, upgrade headlamps, dashboard accoutrements and aftermarket center caps, tailpipes, hoods, automobile alarms and decals?
Whether the ride in the drive is the reason for cooing or swearing, there has to be some sort of mechanistic mojo occurring – something like, “if you build it, he will come.”